


Of Fish, Marriage, and Timely Revelations

by neko_kirin3104



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, One Shot, rainbowfilling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neko_kirin3104/pseuds/neko_kirin3104
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The conversation starts out innocently enough. After all, who can ever go wrong with fishing and lures? Then Mamoru Ohno just has to ask the one question that changes everything. And a late night phone call may even make matters worse...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Fish, Marriage, and Timely Revelations

Mamoru Ohno notes the sudden change in his son’s mood the moment the question sneaks out of his lips. They have just spent the last couple of hours talking about fishing and lures, and as much as he is blown away by Satoshi’s extensive knowledge of the sea and its many tenants, it is hardly his idea of a serious father and son talk...

 

Of course, he hasn’t been too busy not to keep tabs on what his son has been saying on TV and in his many interviews on those glossy  _idol_ magazines. Even if he  _did_  wish to keep himself away, he’d never hear the end of it from his wife.

 

Not that they mean to meddle or anything. After all, they have never been one to interfere unnecessarily with their children’s lives. It’s just that they’d like to make sure—he more than his wife—that their now  _very_  adult and still  _very_  much single son isn’t heading down a reclusive path towards old age.

 

So he feels he has to ask the question. And he knows he has to ask it now.

 

_“When do you plan to get married, Satoshi?”_

 

Just like that. An out-of-nowhere assault that visibly jogs his son’s senses. For that flitting moment Mamoru watches as the younger Ohno’s eyes widen, those tanned jaws slacken, and the slightly quivering lips desperately try to form words his cluttered mind has yet to process.

 

Then the poor young man, helplessly driven to a corner, suddenly starts laughing. Forcibly loud. Like he is fiercely drowning out the stiffness that has spiked up the hotel room’s air conditioning.

 

“That’s a funny one, Otou-chan!” he exclaims.

 

And Mamoru finds himself laughing with him. Like he isn’t really expecting an answer to his overzealous question in the first place. Although he wants nothing more than a glimpse—a mere peek into what his son plans to do with his life, he knows better than to try and force it out of the younger man.

 

He  _did_  teach Satoshi to take things in his own stride after all.

 

And it is this same doctrine that forces Mamoru Ohno to keep his cool. He carries on the cackles for as long as the younger Ohno draws mirth from his badly-timed question. Only half-listening as his son chortles on about how an innocent conversation waddling in a school of bonito and maguro can suddenly slip into an underhanded bid for marriage.

 

“Seriously, old man! You’re drunk!”

 

“Gyaa~!” Mamoru bleats empathically, readily playing along. “It’s this foreign alcohol’s fault! Whatever this is!” He gulps down the rheumy concoction in his glass and scowls while letting out a heartfelt burp of satisfaction, which only causes Satoshi to laugh even harder.

 

But the amp does help somehow, because after just a few more seconds of guffawing like it’s his last night on earth, Satoshi begins to calm down. His seemingly endless glee finally succumbing to an exhausted sigh.

 

The subsequent hush gives Mamoru a chance to pull his thoughts together as he watches his son take a sip from his can of beer, those usually dopey eyes looking uncharacteristically pensive as they focus on a spot on the glass window behind him.

 

The older Ohno very rarely has a serious conversation with his youngest child. Ever since Satoshi decided to live on his own, they’d be lucky to see him once a month, if at all. Not that he did see his son all that much even when he was still living with them. In fact, this is their first family trip ever since Satoshi entered the  _idol_  agency almost twenty years ago.

 

Twenty years. Two decades. It seems like a long time, and yet from his current perspective, Mamoru feels like he’s just taken a blink and lo and behold! His Satoshi is now a thirty-two-year-old man. An award-winning actor. A talented and admired performer. A well-acknowledged artist. A fishing expert...

 

And a single man who seems to have  _completely_ turned his back on marriage.

 

Sometimes, he does get the urge to ask Satoshi what went wrong in his life that made him change his mind about having his own family.

 

Sometimes, he thinks that perhaps, it’s their own fault that their one and only son is turning out to be this way.

 

At other times, he just doesn’t know what to think anymore and ends up getting too consumed by his usually well-controlled curiosity, until he is left with no other choice but to ask the question--

 

_Again._

 

“Seriously, though. Don’t you ever think of settling down?”

 

Satoshi’s eyes shift from the window to his face for just a second before the younger man bows his head and stares intently at the beer can in his hands. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” he mumbles, a slightly annoyed smirk forming on his lips.

 

Mamoru sees this, but figures he’s already into it, so might as well just barrel through while he can still use alcohol as an excuse. “Don’t you even have...  _someone_?”

 

Satoshi appears to be considering this question as he slowly turns the can several times in his hands. Until finally he says in a quiet voice, “There is...  _someone_.”

 

Mamoru feels a sudden gleam of hope. But he reins his excitement back and asks casually, “Why don’t you tell me about her?”

 

His son looks up and meets his gaze, seemingly gauging whether or not to trust him enough to reply. He tries to look as understanding as he possibly can by conferring a small nod of assurance and an encouraging smile.

 

“Might as well tell me now while I’m drunk, you know,” he adds jokingly. “I’ll probably forget about it tomorrow anyway.”

 

Satoshi sighs and averts his eyes once again before he starts to speak, “Well, we’ve known each other for quite a while now, you see. And we’ve always supported each other. I don’t really know when it began feeling  _special_ , though. It just sort of...  _did_.” He starts turning his beer can once again, over and over, as though drawing courage from that simple act. “I guess it’s always really been there. We just didn’t know because we’ve always been close. Too close to even think of the possibility that we’d ever be apart.

 

“Then we got too busy doing our own stuffs. And we would hardly see each other. Phone calls just weren’t enough anymore. Even though we called each other practically every hour, keeping each other updated on what we’re doing, sharing funny stories from the set, telling each other good night and  _stuffs_... It just wasn’t enough.”

 

Mamoru listens quietly to his son, his amusement growing at each expression he observes on the younger Ohno’s face—the initial look of weariness melting away into a wistful frown, a shy smile, and a wider, prouder grin as he completely immerses himself into sharing this bit of his life with his old man.

 

“When we finally did see each other again, it just sort of happened.  _Just like that._ ” Satoshi takes a deep breath and cocks his head to one side, “All those days of being apart, building up into the feelings that—”

 

The words are suddenly left hanging in the air. Mamoru’s amusement grows even more as he sees his son’s eyes widen a moment before his whole face settles into a frown, his story smoothly shifting to a much  _safer_  conclusion, “We’ve been together ever since.”

 

The older Ohno’s heart begins dancing with delight. He can hardly wait to meet this potential new addition to their family. It matters very little that Satoshi has never even introduced this special  _woman_  to them. Now that he knows for sure his son will not grow old alone, he’ll gladly leave the younger Ohno to his own pace.

 

“Um... I need to go out for more of this,” Satoshi raises his empty beer can. “Is there anything you want me to get for you?”

 

He picks up the half full bottle of alcohol from the floor and tilts it to his son. “I’m good,” he says before pouring another shot into his glass.

 

Barely a minute after Satoshi closes the door and Mamoru gulps down the newly poured shot in celebration, the dark blue mobile phone on the night table begins vibrating. He instinctively checks his watch and sees that it’s already 2 AM.

 

Who would possibly place a late night overseas call to his son? It does not take the older Ohno longer than a second to form the most possible—or apparently wishful—assumption.

 

Now, on any other occasion, it would be fairly easy for him to ignore the call. After all, in the Ohno household, it isn’t anybody’s business to meddle with somebody else’s affair, unless it’s a matter of life or death.

 

But curiosity and alcohol have never really been the wisest combination. Before he is even aware of it, Mamoru’s hand has already reached out and grabbed the phone. And without feeling any guilt, at all, he taps the answer key, puts the device to his ear, and almost immediately sobers up at the unmistakably male voice that suddenly speaks up from the other line.

 

“Satoshi! I’m glad you’re still awake. I miss you  _so_  much! I just got home, and I am  _so_  tired. Your ‘ _Okaeri’_  always makes me feel better, you know. Eh, Satoshi?”

 

The awkward silence that follows gives Mamoru a chance to recover from the initial shock. Enough that he is able to pull the phone from his ear to look at its screen and confirm his suspicion.

 

_We’ve known each other for quite a while now..._

 

_We’ve always been close..._

 

_We’ve always supported each other..._

 

It takes everything the old man has to keep himself calm, even as his heart begins to beat so hard and fast, it’s a miracle it hasn’t exploded yet. His son’s words from a while back keep echoing in his head like a taunting mantra.

 

An uncontested argument to the implied truth in this late night call.

 

Could it be...? Is his son...?

 

He puts the phone back to his ear just in time to hear the soft chuckle from the other end, “Have you fallen asleep on the phone again?”

 

Mamoru bites his bottom lip to keep from answering. Though he has yet to come to terms with this suddenly unfamiliar aspect of his son, he would hate to jeopardize it with his untimely curiosity and dense carelessness.

 

“It’s all right,” the young man keeps saying. “I know you’re tired, too. And this call is really expensive! When you sober up in the morning and remember this, you’ll  _definitely_  scold me for it.” Another soft chuckle, then a wistful sigh. “I just really miss you, you know.”

 

The old man closes his eyes and tries his best to ignore the dull ache throbbing in his chest—the beginnings of a full-blown reaction to what he has just discovered about his son.

 

“I guess I’ll be going now. I have an early start tomorrow.”

 

Mamoru gulps down the lump that’s suddenly blocking his throat. A part of him wants to scream at the young man to stay the hell away from his son, but then what good will that do?

 

“Good night, Satoshi.”

 

A couple more seconds of silence, and the line goes dead. It is only when Mamoru gently places the phone on the bed beside him that he notices he is shaking. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again to tap on the various forms of emotions cruising through his body. Firstly going through a moment of denial. That sliver of wishful thought that perhaps he has read too much into what may have been just a friendly late night call between friends.

 

Then again, do  _male_  friends miss each other so much that they’re willing to pay for an overseas call just to say goodnight?

 

Whatever bit of hope he has left is quickly dissolved by the sudden rush of anger that comes next. Anger at the perceived betrayal. His heart and mind constricting with the thought that he never really knew his son. And that Satoshi does not really know him enough to trust him and tell him about this sooner. That he even had to  _accidentally_  find out from his own son’s lover, making it even harder to believe it  _isn’t_  true.

 

Then the guilt comes afterwards. And the guilt is the worst part of it. That painfully ugly thought that he just may have caused this. That this is the price of his lenient ways. Of being too accepting of his son’s life choices and decisions.

 

The anguished old man lifts his hands to rub his face and lets out a gasp when he touches his wet cheeks. He almost wants to laugh at himself. Scream at himself. Run and hurt himself somehow, somewhere, just so he can forget about how awful it feels to be Mamoru Ohno right now.

 

He hears the familiar click of the door opening, and his son’s voice announcing his presence with a rather noncommittal, “ _Tadaima._ ”

 

This only serves to remind Mamoru of something his mind has conveniently blocked previously. And he never even bothers to reply, as he tries desperately to come to terms with another realization about his son and  _that_  man.

 

 _Your_ ‘Okaeri’ _always makes me feel better, you know_

 

Satoshi places the six pack he is carrying on the night table between the two beds, letting out a quiet, “Eh...?’ before turning to him and asking, “’Tou-chan, did someone...? Geez, are you all right?”

 

Mamoru hears the note of concern in his son’s voice, but does not face him as he holds out the phone. He feels the younger man’s hesitation before the device slowly slips from his fingers. He watches from the corner of an eye as his son sits on the bed facing him, subsequently keeping quiet.

 

Even without looking, Mamoru knows the younger Ohno has already figured out the reason behind his silent tears.

 

They stay like this for a while, each lost in his own thoughts, until the older Ohno finally finds his voice, along with the courage to call out his son’s name, “Satoshi...”

 

“Yes,” Satoshi replies, almost in a whisper.

 

“I don’t want you to worry about it, all right.” And it’s really how he feels right now. After that roller coaster ride through all possible levels of emotions, each giving him an avenue to react violently, he still ends up choosing the more rational path, which he  _hopes_  will eventually lead to acceptance.

 

He hears a soft sob in reply and his son saying, “I’m sorry, Otou- _san_.”

 

Mamoru smiles bitterly and finally manages to look at the younger man, his heart breaking at the sight of him crying, looking so regretful for something he hardly has any control of.

 

“Does  _he_  make you happy?” he asks, trying to keep his own tears from choking up his words.

 

Satoshi keeps his head low, but the smile that gradually appears on his lips at some fond memories does not escape the old man’s eyes. “Yes,” the younger Ohno replies with conviction. “ _Very._ ”

 

Mamoru is suddenly reminded of the earlier conversation he had with his son. Of how he has watched in amusement as the young man’s face shifted from an expression of weariness to a look of pure bliss and pride as he talked about his partner. He knows, then, that Satoshi can never be happier with anyone else. That maybe, something  _did_  turn out right for his son after all.

 

“Then it’s not something to be sorry about, is it?”

 

Satoshi finally raises his head and meets his gaze. His eyes at first filled with a look of confusion, then gradual understanding as he finally realizes that this is really happening.

 

“Are you... Are you not angry?” his son asks timidly.

 

“I was,” he replies truthfully. “I guess I still am. A little. But it’s more because... In a way, you lied to me, Satoshi. You lied to  _us_.”

 

“Okaa-chan sort of knows,” the younger Ohno suddenly confesses, averting his eyes once more. “Onee-chan, too. We just never talk about it.”

 

Mamoru stares for a long time at his son. He does not appreciate being left in the dark all on his own. Then again, aren’t fathers always the last to know about the most important things regarding their children’s lives? Perhaps, he should  _really_  start paying a closer attention to his son and daughter’s welfare.

 

“I was afraid you may not be okay with it, you see,” Satoshi explains. “That’s why I couldn’t tell you.”

 

“If I can’t fully accept it now, then that’s my problem,” he replies, trying to keep the exasperation from reaching his voice. “Didn’t I always tell you to be whoever you want to be? Whatever that entails, I have no right to reject.”

 

He hears his son sobbing once again, “Otou-chan...”

 

Mamoru moves to the younger man’s side and slings an arm around his trembling shoulders. His own tears start flowing anew when he feels his son lean into him. Something the younger Ohno has not done for a very long time. He tightens his hold around his son, his own flesh and blood, letting him know that he is well-loved no matter who he is, or who he wants to be with.

 

“It’s true that it may take a while to get used to this, but...,” he starts to say, rubbing a hand to his son’s arm to comfort him in his tears. “We’ll work on it, all right. It’s going to be  _fine_.”

 

“Thank you,” Satoshi whispers. “Thank you, Otou-chan...”

 

Mamoru’s heart swells with delight and he soon finds himself smiling genuinely especially after he catches sight of their faint reflections on the glass window against the backdrop of a slowly coming dawn. A rather fitting allegory to the complicated but  _hopefully_  enlightening days ahead for both father and son.

 

"Listen,” Mamoru says as he is suddenly hit by an idea. “Why don't we go fishing when we get back home, eh? I could probably take a few more days off work."

 

Satoshi looks up to him in open disbelief, “Really?”

 

“Yes,” he says, ruffling his son’s hair like old times. “And ask Sakurai-kun to come along, all right.”

 

It does not surprise him that a hint of weariness crosses Satoshi’s eyes a moment before he smiles reluctantly and turns his gaze away. “I’ll try,” he says in a small voice.

 

And Mamoru has no problem with  _trying_ , really. It can’t be all that easy or it won’t be worth it. He knows the process is going to be long and challenging. But he’s willing to take the bumpy ride, if it means being the best father he can possibly be for his son.

#

**Author's Note:**

> • written for [rainbowfilling](http://rainbowfilling.livejournal.com/) for the prompt _Stitch_
> 
> • also inspired bySatoshi Ohno talking about his family vacation overseas on _Arashi Discovery 2013.01.31_.


End file.
